


Together in Darkness

by Lohksparce



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Body Horror, Dark Past, Established Relationship, Family, Fluff and Angst, Interspecies Relationship(s), M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-28
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:28:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23354689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lohksparce/pseuds/Lohksparce
Summary: A brief tale of two lovers, one born in light and the other forged in shadow, together in darkness, with their spawn and each other.
Relationships: Male Guardian/Original Hive Character(s) (Destiny)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 36





	1. An Evening Together

**Author's Note:**

> For a while now, I've had some interesting ideas regarding the Hive I wanted to explore: what happens if a Hive grows up without a worm? What if a living Hive removes its worm and lives without it? And since we've seen Guardians can learn Hive magic and gain their eyes, I wanted to experiment with a Guardian having been even more corrupted. 
> 
> So here I present, the products of those ideas: Argoll and Zulrok, and their young Thrall, Orthax. 
> 
> (Plus I really like the Hive, especially Thralls and Knights, so I wanna do cute stuff with them 'cause I love cute stuff too.)

The light of his once pure Ghost cast a fluorescent green glow on the pale, Hive-nesting infested walls of one of Titan's long abandoned arcologies. Bright screens full of informational panels and colorful pictures and old lights that still managed to work offered their own light for his path down the lower levels of the bygone structure. Over one shoulder he carried a young sea monster, dripping with methane and skewered upon a sharpened section of old piping and in his free hand, he carried a bag of random trinkets, collected from long abandoned crew quarters. His faded, barnacle-crusted armor was splattered with some of the creature's blood. It would be good eating though and nice change of pace from the arcology's thriving plant life and algae.  
  
The Titan's distorted, undulating voice spoke the Hive language, breaking the silence.  
  
"Emperor. Do you think. Orthax... Will like his gifts?"  
  
Argoll's Ghost looked up at him, blinking his green eye. His deep voice was distorted and filled with static. **"I think he will. They'll keep his claws busy. Let Zulrok have a little peace."  
  
**Argoll nodded, satisfied. Parenting was new to him. Even more so to Zulrok. His little Ghost had lived far longer than he himself had, and he was always thankful for Emperor's guidance. Emperor was one of the few friends he had left, after all. He had long since abandoned the world of Light and Vanguard, half by choice and half unwillingly: there was no place for him among Guardians.  
  
Hefting the sea monster's slippery corpse onto his shoulder again, Argoll descended further into the lesser known arcology, and Emperor floated beside him dutifully. His Acolyte eyes helped illuminate the darkened hallways where the old screen's light couldn't reach.

*** ***

Further down in the facility, a Hive Knight sat silently, watching the thick, vine-filled plant-life and algae that snaked across the high ceiling, slowly covering the smooth, silvery metal.  
  
Zulrok's cleaver lay against the nearby wall, but he didn't grab for it. His glowing green eyes stared, waiting for any sign of movement. A cluster of leafy ferns rustled above. The Knight shifted. The rustling grew louder, traveling through another fern, then over to a thick patch of algae that had grow up and consumed a hanging, metal lantern. Zulrok could see the shadow of a small, bony shape against the illuminated foliage.  
  
The door to the room slid open with a faint hiss, and Zulrok snatched up his cleaver.  
  
"Zulrok. Am home. Brought food."  
  
The Knight relaxed at the familiar voice. Argoll and Emperor came through the door, letting it slide shut behind them, and the rustling began anew, even more furiously. A little Thrall leapt from the foliage, covered in bits of algae and leaves, landing squarely on the arcology floor with a high-pitched grunt. It bounded across the floor and leapt onto the sea monster, grabbing onto its fins with its sharp little claws and hanging. Zulrok shook his horned head, relaxing the grip on his cleaver. He walked over and plucked the Thrall off the corpse.  
  
"Hello, Orthax. Hungry, yes?" Argoll chuckled, reaching out a hand and their spawn grabbed it with both of his own little hands.  
  
"Yesss." Orthax nodded. "You wet. Why you feel strange?"  
  
Argoll pulled his hand away so he could pat Orthax on the head. "You were on monster. Not me. Bring dinner from sea."  
  
He dropped the sea monster's corpse to the ground, still dripping with liquid methane. Orthax squirmed in his father's grip, but Zulrok kept a hold on him. The Knight raised his cleaver, and brought it down on the monster, slicing it into chunks cleanly. Holding his cleaver with two fingers, he used his third free one to skewer a piece of the monster and bring it up to Orthax. The Thrall clawed at empty air for a moment before he found the chunk and snatched it eagerly, nibbling on it.  
  
"Aiat. Welcome home, Argoll," Zulrok spoke slowly, lowering Orthax into Argoll's waiting arms.  
  
"Bring gifts. For Orthax, for you." Argoll smiled a little, handing the sack of miscellaneous goods to his lover. He gently cuddled their spawn before sitting down on the floor gently so he could finish his meal, and Emperor escorted him to his bed of old tarps and blankets.  
  
"Thank you." Zulrok nodded.  
  
Zulrok took the sack curiously, pulling it open and peering inside. Human books, a strange multi-colored cube, a soft-looking thing, faded human toys and figures, and some things he couldn't recognize filled the bag.  
  
"Do you. Want cooked or raw?" Argoll asked, gathering the chunks of meat off the floor.  
  
"Cooked."  
  
The Titan nodded, moving over to the fire pit he had made in the corner long ago. With a rush of Darkness, he called green Hive fire to his hand and lit the pile of scorched plant-life again. The flames hummed and crackled, casting their warm, unearthly green glow upon the walls. Argoll pulled the spear from one of the chunks and skewered all the meat upon it before laying it over the fire pit. He could always get more pipes or poles to sharpen.  
  
Zulrok walked over and lowered himself carefully, sitting down beside Argoll. Even with the chitinous growths on his lover's armor, he still dwarfed the man. He raised one hand and threaded his fingers through Argoll's ragged, dirty locks, trailing them down his cheek, and onto his shoulder before pulling him close, almost awkwardly. Human interactions, expressions of love, still felt foreign to him. The healed, ragged scar in his stomach gave a twinge of pain and a sensation of hollowness.  
  
Sometimes he wondered how he ended up in such a situation.  
  
A lover who used to be a Guardian, living with their spawn and a corrupted Ghost in an abandoned human settlement, outcasts of their races and factions.  
  
His time as a Knight of Oryx's sect seemed like another life, far away from reality and dream-like. At times, he did dream of it. The endless hunger of a Thrall, mindless and driven by his worm, the growth into an Acolyte, and finally the pinnacle of his struggle: Knighthood. He had been near to Prince-hood, even; his strength immense, and his trail of carnage vast.  
  
But then Oryx was slain.  
  
His sect had descended into chaos and in-fighting and was slaughtered by the Guardians, the numbers dwindling until only handfuls of them remained. And soon, there wasn't even handfuls. Once their ship crashed upon the Moon, the other sects saw to their demise. But in their demise, he found life.  
  
Salvation.  
  
Argoll.  
  
Sometimes he wished things were different, and yet he didn't.  
  
He was content, happy, here with Argoll, and their spawn, free from hunger and war.  
  
"Were you injured in your battle?" Zulrok asked, voice still booming and growling even though he tried to speak softly.  
  
"No. Am fine. The monster died quick. No calling for the larger ones," Argoll answered, leaning against the Knight and letting his head rest on a spot not clothed in armor.  
  
The Knight's fangs gnashed together in a semblance of a smile. "Good. I am... glad."  
  
Argoll smiled back, gently touching the hand that wrapped around him before intertwining their fingers. He rubbed one of Zulrok's fingers lightly with his thumb, enjoying the sensation of that strong, chitinous arm against his armor: much like the Hive, it too had become part of his body. A comfortable silence fell over them, only challenged by the sound of Orthax eating and Emperor quietly telling him not to eat so fast.  
  
He loved being in Zulrok's arms. Feeling the plates of bone armor, trailing fingers up sinewy chitin flesh, or just feeling the weight of his body around his own. Leaving the arcology always felt dangerous. He couldn't come back to life anymore. Or could he? He hadn't died in so long he wasn't sure anymore. Hunting for meat was a necessity. Without a worm inside to nourish him, their spawn needed it to help him grow up strong and healthy. But sometimes in the distance, he saw them.  
  
Guardians.  
  
They were fighting Hive or Fallen, or sometimes just moving through the rigs and arcologies for one reason or another. The sight of them filled him with indescribable sadness at times. But the thought of Zulrok and Orthax made the pain lessen. Coming home to them made it all better.  
  
Argoll looked back at the sound of talons and little clawed feet scrabbling on the floor. Flanked by Emperor, Orthax came crawling over, feeling around the floor before finding Argoll's lab and climbing into it. Emperor floated down onto Zulrok's shoulder, finding a dip in his armor to rest in.  
  
The Titan smiled softly, wrapping his free arm around the little Thrall."Full now, Orthax?"  
  
"Yesss. Taste good. Thanks you." Orthax mumbled against his armor, yawning softly. He clung to his father's arm, nestling into him.  
  
"You are welcome."  
  
Zulrok reached down and gently stroked Orthax's head, gazing at his precious, precious last spawn. Soon enough, the Thrall was fast asleep, full and tired from his climbing antics, and the Knight couldn't help but chuckle a little. Such a far cry from the Thralls he knew of the past. Killing and fighting had been thoroughly replaced by playing, eating, and napping.  
  
"I suppose we will show him his play things another time," Zulrok murmured. He could feel Orthax breath softly, rhythmically. There was no sensation of a worm writhing within the spawn, and that made him happy.  
  
Argoll nodded, a tiny smile on his face. "Yes. For now. Let him sleep."


	2. Churning Methane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things change suddenly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now the story starts to get rolling a little. I'll add more tags as characters show up and the story progresses!

Zulrok let out a sigh. The Arcology was as quiet as ever, almost eerily so, but something seemed off. Sometimes he could hear the scurry of the vermin that infested the once lively building, but even the animals seemed to be hiding. He had managed to snatch up a handful of the fat, omnivorous lizards that clung to the walls and undergrowth, but those alone wouldn't feed his little brood. Especially not Orthax. Their Thrall seemed to grow a little every day, and so did his appetite. ' _Growing Guardians need proper sustenance_ ,' Argoll had said someone told him along ago. It certainly applied to Thralls as well, even those without worms it seemed. Would he become an Acolyte or a Knight some day, or would he just become a very large Thrall? The question was often on his mind.

Worms had been part of the Hive so long, far longer than he himself had been alive. He knew tales of how things were before, pieces of knowledge Oryx had left, but details on how life was when growing up without the worms was beyond scarce. Would his spawn feel the agony of transformation, or would he be spared?

Was it right to hope he would stay a Thrall, dangerous yet vulnerable with his sightless face and young chitin?

_Do I want my spawn to live, or to die?_

A flash of movement caught Zulrok's eye from beneath a handful of potted plants far past overgrown and he pushed away his worries. Light gray coloration stood out among the shades of green. Zulrok lashed out, quick and viper-like, and a fat lizard squirmed in his massive hand in vain. One claw to the head was all it took. He added it to the clump of reptilian corpses he held in his other hand. Zulrok sighed again. Who was there to ask, ' _What will my spawn become?_ '. No Hive would speak with him, even if by some minuscule chance they did indeed have an answer to his questions. His king and ward's brood was all but a memory now. All that remained was the armies of Xivu Arath, the scheming hordes of Sava'thun, and the bloody warriors of his prince Crota's spawn. No Eliksni would know, nor the idiotic Cabal, the Lightbearers, the Reef Dwellers, or the strange machine people known as Exos. He doubted even the Vex had the knowledge. Even his beloved wouldn't know.

There was no one and nothing.

He felt like a newborn Thrall again, thrust into a fight for survival against his worm and his fellow Thrall. No siblings to rely on for his perished early, no guidance save for "fight and survive, or die". Zulrok's mind drifted to the Books of Sorrow, lost and then recovered by Argoll, and he felt a hot fire of jealousy and determination seethe in his empty abdomen. Would he know more, now, if the great Oryx had been his father? He had seen the way his great king had written of his spawn, their achievements, chastising their mistakes and preparing them for their future in his own way. Worrying if he has been a good king, a good... father.

The loss of his other spawn still stung, deep down inside.

"...That is why I must strive for ascendance, for Orthax." Zulrok spoke the words low. When had he started to speak aloud?

Zulrok shook his head and continued down the swooping, curving hallway. Blue and pink lights illuminated grime and barnacles on his armor, along with wet vines stuck to the grooves of his chitin. He pried them off and let them fall to the floor. Several handfuls of leafy green edible plants were ripped from the walls, roots and stalks and all. Orthax liked to chew on them, kept his teeth strong. He glanced at the bundles under his arm and the dead lizards. Ought to have brought something to hold it in all, he figured. Zulrok shrugged past a hanging, flowered plant towards a hallway full of battered doors. The first door was broken, tilted inward on its track and covered in old Hive infestation. Three eyes traced the length of claw and knife marks marring the edge of it. Fallen, no doubt. It couldn't have been recent, thankfully. Zulrok brandished his cleaver and crushed the door, kicking what was left out of his way and letting it hit the wall and clatter to the floor. It was more crew quarters and research stations. Waterlogged books and things lay strewn about near overturned chairs and a metal table. Argoll might still be able to read them.

Zulrok collected a random assortment of the abused books, leaving the ones too stained or clawed up to eventually disintegrate. They couldn't be picky.

The next room's door was broken too but easily forced open with pure might that made the walls shake. He hadn't planned on going so deep into the Arcology but pickings had been slim where they frequented. Zulrok picked through the room, grabbing a beat up filing cabinet and stuffing his finds into the drawers before he hefted it up and carried it under one arm easily. He moved down the hallway, checking the rooms and filling up the cabinet further, mostly with random goods but some edible moss and a few unfortunate lizards found their way into it too. Zulrok left the section of rooms, satisfied with his haul. He grunted as he ducked under a tree's low-hanging, leafy branches, abdomen twinging. Phantom pains again.

A low rumble shook the Arcology.

The lights above and around him flickered, screens glitching into bouts of colorful static. Another, stronger rumble made the walls quiver. Bits of ceiling pelted his chitin alongside soaked leaves that clung to him. Damned things. Zulrok took a step forward but the tremor intensified with a deafening boom. The Arcology let out a metallic wail. A hanging plant shook until it fell off its post and crashed, sending chunks of metallic debris across the floor. Zulrok growled, bracing himself against the wall as the room vibrated. Something brushed against his claws. The Knight looked down, expecting to find rats or a horde of the fat lizards fleeing in terror.

 _Methane_.

Rushing in slowly and pooling around his claws, cold and thin.

The shaking stopped. The wailing ceased abruptly with a deep clang, and the Arcology was quiet again, worryingly so. Liquid methane was slowly dripping from small cracks in the hull. Zulrok tested the floor in front of him, teeth gnashing at the sickly sensation of liquid methane sloshing against his chitin. The floor didn't give way to the next level. That was good. Water was not agreeable to Hive flesh, and liquid methane likely wasn't either, but far stronger than his irritation was fear and worry: for Orthax, and for Argoll. The Knight quickened his pace, splashing liquid around with each footstep.

*** ***

"What was that noise?" Orthax asked, eyeless face scrunching up slightly, as much as the bone would allow. He clung to his second father, hearing faint vibrations still. "Father coming home?"

Argoll frowned, holding back a wince at the sharp, growing claws digging into his mix of flesh and armor. The young Thrall was teething on the overgrown barnacles and armor-turned-chitin on his shoulder. Not hard enough to hurt but he certainly felt it. Felt his son's fear and nervousness.

"Metal crying. Perhaps sea beast brushing Arcology." Argoll patted his son's back gently. "Worry not. Zulrok returns, I am sure."

Orthax paused his gnawing, lightly scraping his teeth against a bone growth instead. "Will monster come and get us?"

"Unlikely. Sea beasts keep to selves," Argoll assured him. "Come, back to nap, you. Need your rest."

"Do not want to. Want to wait until Father is home." Orthax protested, letting out a weak hiss. "Not sleepy any longer either."

Argoll chuckled, deep voice undulating to the point of sounding as if three of him were speaking. "Fine, fine. Until Zulrok returns. Then we eat. _Then_ you rest."

The Thrall hissed in protest again, but relented with a grumble, settling down in Argoll's lap. His fathers had been pressing him to rest more and more recently, even if he wasn't tired. They said a 'metamorphosis' might come to him soon, whatever that was, and if it did indeed come, it would be more painful than anything he had ever experienced. The thought of it scared him, but it didn't _unnerve_ him. It might not come, right? And if it did, he could survive. He would be strong like Zulrok, tough like Argoll. His fathers would take care of him too.

The corner of Argoll's mouth tugged upwards, amused. He reached and grabbed Orthax's tattered blanket and nestled it around the Thrall, having the distinct feeling their spawn might end up asleep before Zulrok returned despite his whining. That happened a lot. One moment Orthax was skittering up the walls and vines, and the next moment he was slumbering in a bony pile. Only Zulrok truly knew what the metamorphosis from Thrall to Acolyte and Acolyte to Knight was like, but if it was anything like the agony of his transformation, he hoped his son didn't experience it.

There were no real words to describe the pain.

Feeling his armor cut into his skin, molding and melding into something different altogether. His bones growing, breaking though the skin to join the armor in an unholy matrimony of pain and suffering. How his face morphed and broke apart to make room for the eyes he had to steal after his Light was lost.

Was it right to wish his son weak in order to save him from pain?

Or would the sin of damning him to vulnerability be worse than the agony of metamorphosis in the end?

Argoll shuddered, and Orthax tilted his head, nudging him.

"I am fine. Just... cold." The memories and nightmares had receded over the years but they were always there.

"Here," Orthax said, shifting and pulling on his blanket, awkwardly trying to fit the meager covering over himself and his father at the same time.

Argoll smiled softly and kissed Orthax's head. "Thank you, little one."

The room's door slid open, breaking the silence that had only just begun to form. Zulrok stomped in, tracking liquid methane behind him, cabinet still under his arm.

"Grab Orthax and our things, we must leave," Zulrok near barked, tense. "This Arcology section is sinking."

Argoll tensed, raising to his feet and clutching Orthax against his chest protectively. "Are you sure? If we move... Gets us closer to Guardians. Hive. Fallen. More danger.".

"I am sure. Liquid is already seeping in from cracks and the lowest floors have begun to swell with water," Zulrok said, grabbing up what few possessions they owned and tossing them into the cabinet quickly.

Argoll held back a curse. If only it had been a sea beast running into the Arcology as they did on occasion. Their life was one of solitude, and for good reason. What few Hive remained and the Fallen would be out for their heads, and so would the Guardians, at least with Zulrok and Orthax, and he couldn't bare the thought of that. What would they do to him, someone who was once a part of their ranks? Would they kill him or study him? Neither were desirable. He didn't want to be reminded of that life, hated for what he had become or used as some guinea pig.

"What is sinking? Are we going to die?" Orthax asked, looking between them as he clung to the Titan's armor as his fathers filled the filing cabinet.

"No, we will not die. I will make sure of it." Zulrok reassured his son, pausing to put a hand on the Thrall's head but only for a moment.

Emperor appeared next to the Titan's head in a tiny blaze of Hive soulfire, and his barnacle-covered shell twisted and jerked nervously.

**"I am detecting the hull breaches down below. They are small, but growing. I estimate this section will sink within the next 53 planetary hours."**

Zulrok breathed a slight sigh of relief. "It is good the destruction is not imminent. Still, we should go now. We do not know if the situation will take a turn for the worse suddenly." He looked to Argoll. "You know Titan better than I. Where would be best to resettle?"

"I remember... a strike. Against Sava'thun's brood." Argoll said, face scrunching up in a frown. "It was won. Area was cleared of Hive, and closed off. Could move there. Arcology there is more stable, likely no Guardians. Would be safe, I think."

"We move there then."

"It will be safe enough. Can always move again." Argoll sighed and held Orthax tighter, putting the blanket in the cabinet last.

Argoll moved to the door and Zulrok followed behind him, ducking through the doorway. Emperor blinked and the hall grew brighter with the light from his sickly green optic. The Titan headed up the tiny group, and Orthax held tighter. Questions plagued his mind rapid fire, but he held his tongue. Argoll lead them down the hall and up a few flights of stairs into the Arcology's overgrown lobby. The depths of the Solarium wasn't the best choice, but where else could they go? Crossing the sea would be impossible, even if he knew where any other Arcologies were. He just had to hope it would be safe and secluded enough.


End file.
